It is Friday, June 19th. I have no major plans for the weekend other than Father's day. When you have three fathers, this hallmark holiday takes a little more planning. One father is rather easy, as he is slightly borrowed from my husband (who truly owns him by both shared blood and shared name). The other two are completely my own-- I am the only daughter to both of these men, and I do what I can to make this holiday special.
It is Friday June 19th and it is not a special day. The anniversary of the day my husband and I met came and went with a soft sign, and the anniversary of our wedding is still months away. We are busy again, something we both anticipated the way a person in the ocean expects an oncoming wave-- you are so focused on the climax, you don't enjoy the calm. It is just a normal day.
It is Friday June 19th, 2009 and I think you can see the path I am laying. It is slow in the office and there is little noise, few phone calls, only three sole bodies and one of them smells (but that is another story).
Art picked me up today and I watched his face as I made my way down the cement stairs leading to the parking lot. He was in his old Explorer and the sun reflected off of the dull hunter green paint in splashes of color and light. He smiled wide at me and I smiled back. I climbed in the car on this ordinary day and broke the perfect silence with immediate, desperate conversation. Because everything is a big deal to me, I had to share the latest news. We made it past one row of cars and to the stop sign before he asked me to open the glove box. We made it past another parking lot, the sun glowing off the window, bouncing back out to the ground, before I opened the red jewelry box inside the glove box. It was perfect, on a really great day. I told him I was just happy for the company, for the surprise. I meant it.
It is Friday, June 19th and I am content with the lull between waves.
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